


Interlude, With a Cult

by mojikara



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, set mid series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21900220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mojikara/pseuds/mojikara
Summary: Jean-Luc finally joins Beverly for shore leave.Written for the lovely pixiedane on Tumblr.Thanks to the mods for running this!
Relationships: Beverly Crusher/Jean-Luc Picard
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17
Collections: Star Trek Secret Santa 2019





	Interlude, With a Cult

"When did you learn to use a lasso?" 

To be fair to Jean-Luc, he delivered this with a reasonable amount of composure. He was red-faced and puffing a little, however, and to be even more fair to him, that was probably because he was upside down and dangling from a tree.

Beverly's eyes danced as she scrambled over the undergrowth. "I'm a woman of many talents, Jean-Luc," she said mysteriously. 

She came to a halt just in front of her dangling husband, and rested one hand on his shoulder for balance. She craned up and kissed him on the lips. 

He was even more red-faced when she'd finished, and she was quite delighted by this. It was difficult to tell if it was the kiss or the general rush of blood to his head. As a doctor, she probably should've been able to figure that out, but as a wife, it was nice to get one up on him. 

"Did you have anything in mind for the rest of the afternoon?" Jean-Luc enquired oh so casually. He began revolving. "Oh - oh, dear." 

"Well, I seem to have accidentally adopted five or six cats - or the local equivalent," she admitted. "I set up these to trap the ursines that seem to stalk them. It's why I'd asked you to notify me before beaming down." 

"Er. You had told Geordi there was no actual danger." 

"No danger apart from your wife, yes," she assured him. She made her way over to the closest tree, where the end of the rope had been tidily secured. "I'll help you down." 

With a whump and a thump, Picard was sprawling on the ground in no time. She grinned, and held out a hand to him, to help him to his feet.

Her little cabin was meticulously clean, and smelled of baking bread and cheese, with a mild undertone of something delicious roasting in the oven. He took off his pack and sat down with a relieved sigh in a low, padded chair, then rubbed the back of his head ruefully. "I suppose I deserved that. You've done very well for yourself here." 

"The tour guide was impeccable, and so was my research," she said lightly. "I'm just glad you could join me at last, Captain Jean-Of Course I Can Take Leave-Luc Picard. You should get out of those clothes." 

"Beverly-"

"Because we're on leave, and about to have dinner," she said. "Please get your mind out of the gutter." 

A few minutes later, he'd washed up in her tiny bathroom, and emerged in one of his casual shirts (casual, for him, meant of course that it looked as though it had never been worn and had been freshly replicated no more than a nanosecond ago) in blue and gold, and black pants. Not a terrible match for her own deep green blouse and blue jeans. 

"You look gorgeous," she told him sincerely, wrapping her arms around him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and felt his arms come up around her in return. He exhaled, and inhaled, and exhaled again. She could feel him beginning to actually relax at last. 

"Is that your medical opinion?" 

"Absolutely, Captain." 

"Then I take it as the highest truth," he said gravely. "And as your captain, I hope you will accept my assessment of you as being the most beautiful creature to grace this planet, whatever the inhabitants are calling it today. Meler, was it?"

"Something like that. And oh, I don't know. There are rather aesthetically pleasing birds, and I did see Lieutenant Worf leading an away team only yesterday." 

"Beverly. Really." 

She laughed. "Thank you, Jean-Luc. I try. The air here has been helpful." 

They sat down to a perfectly cooked roast meat of some sort -

("The ursines?" 

"It's probably best if you don't know.") 

\- with new potatoes, freshly made bread, and cheese. Beverly visited the coolbox under the sink and pulled out two lightly frosted servings of chocolate mousse for dessert. 

("I like to be self-sufficient, but technology does exist to make our lives easier.") 

Sated, they sat on her tiny porch at the end of the night, to watch the stars come out along with the moons. He wrapped an arm around her, and she smiled to herself. She'd had the porch swing replicated and installed, suspecting he'd like it. It creaked most satisfactorily, and it fit the two of them. Beverly's work as ship's doctor meant that she had to be particularly aware of the captain's needs, and her work as Jean-Luc's wife meant much the same.

Of course, he was also aware of hers, and he pulled out two tiny chocolates from his pocket, and solemnly handed one to her. 

(Also, of course, she'd gotten the swing largely because she damn well wanted it. If she had to spend half of her three day leave without her husband, then she was going to enjoy it. And the air was clean and cool here, with the wind rustling through the leaves, so it was very much enjoyable.) 

She unwrapped hers, and let it melt in her mouth. "Hazelnut," she breathed. 

Her current favorite. 

She curled her legs up under herself gracefully, and half dozed for a while. Enjoying the feel of his heartbeat against her cheek. Until there was something that was halfway between a meow and a _**MEOOOOWWWW!!!!**_

"Ah. The gang's here," she said, uncurling herself again. "Back in a moment." 

She clattered back inside. When she emerged, she had some more of the meat, portioned into six careful portions. She tossed it in six careful directions, and grinned at Jean-Luc's somewhat disturbed reaction. 

"They're bigger than Earth house cats, I take it." 

"Somewhat, yes." 

He shook his head in amazement. with the moonslight defining his face. 

"Will I need to count my fingers in the morning, or do they all sleep outside?" 

"Outside. They're tame enough." 

A few minutes later, she ushered him into the bedroom. She changed into her pajamas, and watched with appreciation as he changed into his, stowing his clothes tidily back into his bag, of course. She climbed into the large, wooden bed, which creaked just a little, and held back a corner of the covers for him. 

He climbed in next to her, and they embraced once more. Beverly let her feet tangle with his. Good. She hadn't been able to sleep well without him.

"Lights off," she told the lamps, which obediently turned themselves off. "Good night, Jean-Luc." 

"Here a day and a half and you start a cult," he murmured. "I'm impressed."

"Good NIGHT, Jean-Luc," she laughed.


End file.
